


Good Boy

by haganenoheichou



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kings Rising Spoiler, Light BDSM, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Post-Kings Rising, Praise Kink, lamen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Damen calls Laurent a good boy, following the five stages of grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comtessedebussy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/gifts).



> So I was finally inspired to write a mini fic for Captive Prince. I have spent too long in a slump, crying over Kings Rising feels – and a conversation with one lovely human last night moved me towards catharsis.

The first time it happened, Laurent chose to pretend it never did.

Perhaps it was his pride that convinced him so, perhaps it was the fact that his entire body seemed to still and then begin to recoil in protest of what he had just heard. Either way, he didn’t comment on the fact that as he bent over for his lover, his king, his Damen, his hands perched on the windowsill of his private study overlooking the entire Veretian capital, mouth open and panting out little moans and dripping saliva all over the finely polished stone, he heard it, loud and clear, in Damen’s voice.

The word brushed the shell of his ear, making him shiver in both arousal and repugnance.

“Good boy…”

He managed to convince himself that the bad taste in his mouth was just the stale wine from the dinner they'd had. 

* * *

The second time it happened, Laurent did comment on it.

Oh yes, he did. Despite his approaching orgasm, the release so close he had been teetering on the very edge of sanity, despite the fact that Damen himself seemed to have been in the process of losing his mind to pleasure, his hands planted firmly on Laurent’s hips as the blond King rode him all the way to bliss, Laurent ripped his body out of Damen’s grasp, his long nails scratching Damen’s already scarred chest.

“Wha-?” The Akielon King seemed dazed, confused by why so suddenly his pleasure had ended. Laurent’s motions were quick and precise as he pulled on his inner robe and strode over to the door.

He was still sweating and panting from the experience, yet the passion had been replaced by righteous anger.

“Get out.”

“Laurent?” Damen’s expression was hurt. The man lifted his upper body off the tainted sheets, propping himself up on his elbows, still fully exposed. The temptation to continue this was far too big.

“Get out, I said. Don’t you dare come near me,” Laurent said, his voice flat.

“I don’t understand.”

“I am not your _good boy_.”

Understanding dawned on Damen, and he looked positively horrified with himself.

“Laurent, I did not mean–,”

“Leave.”

* * *

The third time it happened, Laurent had been too into it to stop.

“Good, so good… My good boy…”

It felt as though his entire body had been slammed against a stone wall, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of his lungs. Damen felt it too – he stilled immediately, his arms and legs trembling as he held himself over Laurent, still buried inside of him.

“I…”

 _Perhaps he doesn’t mean it in the way_ he _did,_ Laurent’s mind supplied, veering off on a totally unpredicted course. His hands were clutching at the sheets, desperate for Damen to continue playing with his body. His lips were bruised an torn by the kisses they had shared before stumbling into the royal baths and embarrassing the Akielon servants into leaving.

The sound of the water pouring in through the aqueducts was the only thing that provided any movement in the room.

“And what does that make you?” Laurent asked quietly, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

“What?”

“What are you then, to me?” Laurent asked. There was a long moment’s paused before Damen’s lips descended onto the back of his neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“Anything you want me to be.”

* * *

The fourth time, he was the one who brought it up.

Basking in the afterglow of a hearty reunion since their last meeting three whole months ago, when Damen had been forced to return and attend to state matters in Akielon, Laurent breached the topic as he lay within his lover’s arms, sticky with sweat and semen. He had been playing with Damen’s hand – his beautiful, callused hand of a warrior, rough and so much larger than Laurent’s own. The hand capable of both punishment and praise.

He shifted to glance at Damen and sighed.

“It was wintertime when he first called me that.”

Laurent felt Damen’s entire body stiffen around him. He clung to the Akielon’s hand to prevent him from pulling out and away, tugging him closer instead to feel the comfort of Damen’s arms.

“It was cold and… he told me that his quarters were much better heated.”

“I went along, we had dinner in his chambers, and… he said… he would want me to… pay for my room and board.”

Laurent heard his own voice waver as he closed his eyes, fighting back the stinging sensation behind his eyelids.

“I did it. I… I remember the feeling of his hands in my hair, pulling me closer to… abuse my throat and… him kissing my lips after, smacking his mouth as if I had been the one to treat him to vile juices.”

Damen’s arms around him tightened.

“He pulled away, looked into my eyes, I felt terrified, betrayed and… and then he said it.”

“Good boy.”

* * *

The fifth time, Laurent had expected it. Well, after his confession, he had supposed that Damen would be more careful with holding his tongue – but he had underestimated just how thick his Akielon was. How much he acted on instinct and passions, instead of cold reason.

“Good boy,” Damen panted, his hands bruising Laurent’s hips as the blond King rode him right atop the Veretian throne, their robes and crowns discarded on the floor as if they had nothing of import to offer.

They rarely did, when it came to their relationship.

Laurent felt Damen still once more, frozen in fear of rejection. His eyes skimmed the expression on the Akielon’s face – apologetic, guarded, _sorry_.

Something within him snapped.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, leaning down to claim Damen’s lips. The man let out a moan of surprise against the kiss, and shifted unconsciously, making Laurent groan as well as he slipped further inside.

“Say it,” the Veretian King breathed, touching his forehead to Damen’s. “Say it.”

He placed a hand on Damen’s shoulder for leverage and lifted himself up ever so slightly before sliding back down. Back home.

“My… good boy,” Damen whispered, his face entranced. Laurent felt a strange warmth pool in the pit of his stomach.

“More.”

“My good boy,” Damen repeated, his hands tangling in Laurent’s hair.

“More…”

“My… good… boy…” Every word was punctuated by a thrust and a pull on his hair.

“More… more… tell me more…”

“Mine.”

“Yes…”

“So good for me…”

“For you…”

“Mine… gods, you’re mine…”

Laurent arched his back when release took over his mental faculties, sending him into a downright spiral of insanity. His hands tightened on Damen’s shoulders as he felt heat floor his insides.

His lips found Damen’s desperately, and as he slid down over Damen’s chest, boneless and entirely too satisfied, he whispered what he knew had been the truth ever since that fateful moment when he had realized that he was in love.

“Yours.”


End file.
